So Much More
by Felicity Kitten
Summary: "You could give so much more" - Andy Moor and Carrie Skipper, aka a summary of my feeling over Red Lotus B-) Unfortunately, life kept getting busy, so only two ficcies for P'Li Appreciation Week 2015.
1. Than Years of Separation

**I never expected to gather up enough actual inspiration to do P'Li Appreciation Week any good, but here I am and quite proud of how it turned out. Let's see if I can handle some more. Oh, and even though I picked Appearance, it kinda feels like Relationships and Prison as well. Enjoy!  
**

 **Pairings: P'heer, and I dare you to squint and find some Ming'Li, too**

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 _ **P'Li Appreciation Week - Appearance  
**_

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 _ **So much more than years of separation**_

It almost felt like good old times. In few blissful moments, they could all give into the long awaited feeling of freedom, its sweetness specific for each one of them.

Ghazan felt it as the heavy solid surface under his feet. No matter how everyone looked at it, cold stone had more life within than the dry, dead wooden cage which had been cutting him away from his sanity for ages - time too long for any human being to deserve, to come out of unscathed.

Ming-Hua's came in soft ripples and icy coldness and regained sense of being whole and herself, not depending on sentries' whims. How would they treat her today? A human being, a rabid dog? Always a surprise. Days passed and mindless images of others' lives, real or fake, used to drown the pain inside, prolonged with every breath and second of being cooked alive, to outshout the overwhelming desire to make them pay. In a blink of eye, the nightmare ended and so did every her thought to them, it seemed.

In the rush of escaping her freezing tomb of North Pole, P'Li never dared to delve into nagging ideas that all of this must be just a dellusion produced by her mind, dying more and more each day. However, she forgot warmth too long ago to ever remember it as vividly as at that moment. Surrounded by dancing flames - in the middle of that chunk of ice and snow, what an irony - then wrapped in tight embrace of her lover, her blue lips coming alive in searing kisses and pain… if it happened to be not real after all, she wouldn't mind dying at all.

It was. Thanks to Ghazan, P'Li now had a bath full of simmering water. His doubtful look and comment about making a soup out of herself didn't discourage her. She felt like nothing could be too warm for her now.

As soon as she got out, shivers ran through her entire body, forcing her to wrap up in as many blankets as possible.

-o-

Just like before, Zaheer gathered all of them in dining room, to eat and discuss strategy. In other words, to tell them the plan and then counter any arguments about things that could go wrong. Was it what cost them the better of their lives? That he thought of them - of himself - as infallible, ready to take on the world if necessary?

 _Stop it now_ , P'Li scolded herself as reproach started to warp the image of the man she loved. _We were so young… paid the price too high. No, it isn't too much to give for freedom, for being reunited with family again. We're all here - Ghazan, Ming-Hua, Zaheer - we survived. It's over._

That might be true, but despite her best intentions, P'Li couldn't ignore the unmistakeable traces the imprisonment had left on each one of them, and she knew all of it merely mirrorred deeper wounds hidden underneath.

Ming-Hua's dull cheeks and ashen skin, new shadows encircling her eyes, sunk and red, deadly silence around her as if she wasn't even aware of her surroundings.

Ghazan's cracking skin, burned with blisters which didn't come from his lava and a hint of unease in his voice, laugh and glance.

Zaheer's graying hair, hard stare devoid of any emotion and weakness, softening only when his eyes met hers.

Heck, she even remembered her own - untamed hair resembling felt, sharpness of features and cold, as if there was still something frozen inside of her and could never get warm.

 _From the start, we've all been broken. But now… we're shattered, held in place only by thin strings of what we used to believe in._

"Let me also tell you one thing," Zaheer's voice suddenly found its way to her consciousness after minutes of buzzing in her ears.

"We were wrong in so many things. I was wrong. Only because I never imagined that one of my dearest friends would turn his back on us and let us rot away for years so that he could have a free way with his own plans."

"Don't turn this into a shock of betrayal," sharp, hoarse voice cut in. "Our failure wasn't just about Unalaq, you know it damn well, Zaheer," Ming-Hua finished her accusation with a glare that could cut through stone.

"I wasn't planning to, Ming-Hua," his tone didn't even waver. "You can point your finger on me all you want," only Ghazan reacted to Zaheer's unfitting choice of words and snickered softly, "or better yet, we can all do that and start arguing about who's to blame. We all remember the day well, I'm sure. I have no doubt we could go through details and find out that weak part of the group. Let me tell you…" he paused and looked around the room, "we all were at some point. I thought about it every day of my life," he glanced down suddenly before his eyes turned dispassionate again.

"It's all in the past now. Trust me, by now, I hadn't dared to imagine there's still hope for us, yet the Harmonic Convergence enabled me to break free and convinced me that our path is the right one - not only for us to take, but for the world to follow, too."

It took a while until his words sunk in, but P'Li could see the change on their faces. Ming-Hua wasn't immersed in herself anymore, Ghazan's sight turned resolute again. Her own doubts were vanishing.

She felt his look on herself and met it with her own. Suddenly, their roles were reversed - he dared to shed the mask and let the truth peek through. His irises glimmered with guilt and regret and she recognized his unspoken plea for forgiveness. She could count the number of times she saw it on his face with fingers of one hand and the reason never changed. Once again, his rash actions brought them nowhere and in the end, he managed to hurt those he cared about the most.

She took his hand and intertwined their fingers together under the table, firm, but soft and supportive.

"This time," her voice almost echoed in the room, "there won't be any more prisons to go back to. The world will change and together, we'll guide it to freedom."

"No one else ever was in such a perfect position," Zaheer continued and P'Li noticed his old zeal seeping through, "not even Xai Bau and the rest of founders of Red Lotus. No one can stop us - not even the Avatar."

"Now we even have the one missing element," Ghazan chuckled.

"Together - we're unstoppable."

He now returned the grip of her fingers with renewed trust. The night was falling on the skies outside, ready to seal their reunion by means as real and intimate as words could never be for neither of them.

-o-

"Would you give me a hand, Ming-Hua?" P'Li asked, holding a small mirror in her left hand.

"Wouldn't dream of missing out a pun, would you?" mirthless smirk didn't manage to hide Ming-Hua's amusement. "Slept well, eh?"

"I'm surprised. You used to never beat around a bush," P'Li commented. Considering that Ming-Hua's room - she and Ghazan chose not to share and have each their own one - was next to hers and Zaheer's, she expected at least one dry remark on how loud they were and that she was sure to hear Zaheer murmur Guru Laghima's name at least twice.

"As our all-seeing leader mentioned yesterday - times are changing." Something in Ming-Hua's voice alarmed her.

"You don't sound very optimistic," she turned her head to meet her eyes - luckily, she was sitting on her bed and Ming-Hua standing a few steps from her, or else she would have to lean down _a lot_ to do that - but Ming-Hua's gaze was unreadable.

"13 years isn't easy to just throw away and forget. Whatever," her tone demanded a change of topic. "Tell me what you need me to do. I have some work, too."

"It's the hair," P'Li buried her free hand in thick dark locks, now reaching her hips. "It's way too heavy for me to keep it like this. I need to cut it, but I'd like to wear it in that long braid I used to always have."

"Then cut the sides." A simple solution.

"What do you think I need you for?" P'Li sneered.

Ming-Hua knew how to be precise with her bending. Her ice tendrils could slit a man's throat, but right now P'Li enjoyed the cool touch tracing her scalp. The sharp edges cut through roots of her hair with zero effort. P'Li imagined 13 years of suffering, crushed hopes and longing being cut away with same ease. If only…

"There. Done," Ming-Hua pulled away and P'Li ran her hand through bald parts of her skull. She lifted the mirror to look at the result of Ming-Hua's work. It looked strange and somehow enhanced the sharpness of her face, but she liked it. The face looking back at her wasn't wrecked to the point of being a grotesque caricature, if somehow spared, then just to be recognizable as her own. This person was ready for a change, to start anew and _win_.

"Thanks, Ming," she smiled. Ming-Hua didn't share her content.

"It was nothing."

P'Li caught her shoulder as she was about to leave.

"What?"

"If there's a way how to make it easier for you," P'Li refused to let Ming-Hua look away, she needed her to understand that she wasn't alone in this, "I'm here. Always."

"Save it for Zaheer," she smirked, but it lacked her usual teasing.

"You're my family, too," P'Li softened her grip on Ming-Hua's shoulder, letting her decide.

For a while, it seemed she would give in. She valued her independence and personal space too much to do that often, but P'Li knew that when she did, as a last resort, it seemed to ease a burden from her. For a while. She would never let anyone carry it with her, for her. Just a night's worth of time to get a little taste of it and then she took it back again.

"I'm good. I've handled worse." Fake words. They both knew it.

"Do what you want, Ming-Hua. But if you ever need to just go out and drink a bit-"

"As if we could go sit in a bar without seeing our wanted posters everywhere."

"Don't be such a killjoy," P'Li rolled her eyes, then grew serious again.

"I think we can really win this time. After that, life will be different."

"I'd like to believe that." She couldn't hold her any longer, so P'Li just sat there and watched as Ming-Hua disappeared in the door.

P'Li took a hairbrush and ran it through her hair few more times and then tried to remember how she always did it. Her fingers, though still a bit cold and rigid, had a good memory. It took her just three attempts to braid her hair perfectly the way she preferred it. It was a small thing, yet it made her feel better to know that some things wouldn't change regardless of time that passed.

 _We're still the same and different at the same time. Trying to return to what once was is pointless - we need to change in order to make this right, free ourselves from loads of the past. That's the only way we can bring the same into the world as well._

 _"New growth cannot exist without first the destruction of the old."_ P'Li grimaced as she remembered Zaheer's favorite quote of Guru Laghima. If he knew that she grew to appreciate some of them, she would never hear the end of it.

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 **I noticed even earlier in my writing I tend to start serious and grim and then work towards some resolution which usually carries a lighter tone. It's just my thing to do that, but if you have any objections, let me know. Also, I'm kinda keen on the "looking into a mirror, cutting hair as a symbol of change" theme. It might be a bit overused, but sometimes I find myself running straight into it once again, heh.**

 **The ideal plan would be to write some more for P'Li Appreciation Week and then add a chapter to Lost and Found, but I have no way of knowing how will my inspiration choose to act. This was spontaneous and real fun to write, so I'd like that to last at least until tomorrow. After that, I'm not sure if I'll have time to update until next summer, let's see how my medical school works out.**

 **Anyway, thanks for all support! Every follow/favorite/review has me jumping upside down with joy and motivated to write more and more. I'll be back again, that's the plan, preferably tomorrow or so (can't promise, though). Until then, h** **ave a great time.**

 **Love**

 **Kat**


	2. Than a Killing Machine

**I tried again, though it feels a bit too short. This one is for Day 2, Combustion-Bending, a.k.a. natural order is disorder, whose idea it was to write these days in proper sequence? :D Enjoy :)  
**

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 _ **P'Li Appreciation Week - Combustion-bending**_

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 _ **So much more than a killing machine**_

"Breathe in. Focus and feel the qi rushing into your head, then compress it into a single point, the smaller, the better. Careful. You don't want to blow up your head, do you? Then let it out slowly, but quickly enough not to let it disperse."

His words eventually melted in her ears, becoming a background noise without any meaning. The only thing more predictable than his lectures - she could recite them word by word - was their result, or lack thereof. This morning wasn't any different - she could feel the pressure building up in her forehead, threating to split it in half. However, the moment when she tried to extrude it, burning pain blurred her vision and her focus was lost. She was used to intense headache as a side effect of her bending. The problem didn't lie there. She felt like a barrier prevented her from the final step, releasing the blast itself.

She was also familiar with words of disappointment from her so-called mentor. Her master brought him in after she became unable to bend. He discovered the cause almost immediately - her Ājñā chakra was blocked, which meant that he had to learn her how to open it again. Instead, he kept repeating her old combustion-bending exercises, hoping that after enough time, her problem would just solve itself. With no apparent success, obviously.

Deep down, she knew that the last mission almost two weeks ago which made her swear to never use her abilities again was the exact reason behind trouble with her beding.

"You always keep repeating the same stuff all over again. Do you have any idea about how hard it actually is?" she was way too tired of everything to have patience for him. He wasn't cruel or malicious, but his lack of interest in her beyond an extraordinary tool to be fixed was hitting right where it hurt. He had robbed her from her humanity, as if she was never worthy of it in the first place.

"I believe you're exagerrating. You're a natural talent, more than capable. The only reason this keeps happening is because you want it that way. I can see it clearly," his old, colourless irises examined hers, "disloyalty, fear and disgust of your unique ability. They have no place in eyes of a soldier. You should know that much by now."

"No one ever asked me if I want to be one," she answered quietly, averting her gaze, heavy with unshed tears, from the blank disinterest on his face.

"It's the destiny of people like you. You have no other possibility but to remain loyal to your master and do whatever he asks of you. Other people would kill you if you tried to live among them. Be grateful for life you have."

"You call this a life?! I hate it, I hate the things I am forced to do!" she snapped, shutting her eyes, but it was no use - tears of anger and pain spilled through her eyelids. Her head was throbbing even more than before.

"Would you rather die, then?" his voice carried a softer tone now, which surprised her in a way nothing else could.

Death - a word too scary to even cross the mind of an innocent young girl, barely thirteen years old. Once again, she had to prove herself as unlike the others. Its true meaning had become crystal clear to her way too soon. Her childhood ended suddenly and painfully, violently crushed under the foot of a tyrant seeking more power, taking everything she had and knew with her, leaving nothing but blood on her trembling hands. Loved ones, strangers… same fate met each one of them, all because of one cursed child.

She knew death by its smoky smell, the stickiness of splattered blood, eyes pleading for mercy. It was perpetual and relentless, oblivious to such things as age, an entire lifetime just beginning, or injustice. It was waiting for her, too. It took lives of so many, why would it hesitate in front of a freak, a killing machine?

Still, she couldn't get rid of childlike fear. She was scared to die and would do anything to survive. Cowardice or the last moments of a child still buried somewhere within? Did it matter?

It was easier not to feel, not to think. Maybe she would be happier as the lifeless machine everyone made her out to be and urged her to become.

"Good, good. Very well." She despised the hint of satisfaction colouring his dull voice after she performed the required exercise to perfection. The practice target about five metres ahead of her disappeared in a ball of flame.

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 **I was tempted to continue this one with a timeskip after P'Li joined the Red Lotus and started seeing her abilities in a different light, but then I thought it would require some actual research on chakras and I don't have much time for that now. Maybe I'll try and write a bit more, while I still can.**

 **Also, I had an idea about connecting my totally out of the blue idea for the name of this fic collection with titles for each chapter I write. The previous one is now called So much more than years of separation, naturally meaning the irreversible impact the prison had on each one of Red Lotus. I think there's no need to explain the title of this one. I'm curious what I come up with if I continue to write these appreciation weeks (which I doubt, but still).**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for the feedback I received for Friday chapter, here or on tumblr. It made me really happy and only thanks to that I felt motivated to write more today :)**

 **Love**

 **Kat**


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